


Ilicit cupboard sex

by katiebuttercup



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, His Last Vow, Misuse of hospital equipment, high!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 13:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16019234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiebuttercup/pseuds/katiebuttercup
Summary: A Sherlock PoV for for the wonderful “shagging shezza” fic





	Ilicit cupboard sex

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raelynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raelynn/gifts).



> Sherlock is mean cause he’s high and also because he thinks Molly deserves better things.
> 
> I can’t write porn

She’s still sniping. 

He hadn’t noticed her follow him into the supply closet but here he was forced into hearing yet another holier than thou lecture from Molly Hooper as if he wasn’t a grown man with a brain the size of a planet.

He wasn’t high enough to deal with the histrionics.

Shes speaking at a rapid clip, clearly upset and annoyed. He feels distantly sorry for her. It must be awful to care so much. He’d taken enough that caring was just out of reach. Thank god. 

“So that’s it then!” Molly is saying, “you don’t even have an excuse?” 

Oh he has excuses, plenty of them. He’s just not in the mood to share them with Molly. He steps closer, a tactic in the past that has always worked to unbalance her. 

“Its. For. A. Case.” He stresses each word. “How many times do I have to repeat myself?”

“Until I believe it which I don’t” she snaps back. 

Hes about to retort when he sees the dilation of her pupils, the quickness of her breath. His lips pull back on a feral grin, 

“You’re aroused, don’t bother to deny it,,” now there’s a surprise. He hadnt occurred to him that Molly might like the literal dirty version of him. 

She makes a valiant effort to deny it but Sherlock decides to end the conversion, capturing her mouth in a kiss. She relents for a moment, and Sherlock basks in the taste of her but after a few moments she pulls away, concern clearly overriding her arousal. “Sherlock this isn’t you, you’re high as a kite”

Oh if only that were true. Sherlock is playing on the edge of control certainly but he knew what he wanted. 

“I’m not that high, Molly Hooper” he murmurs, lowering his voice to the pitch that always makes Molly capitulate. He scowls as she ducks out of his arms, scrambling to override her body’s desire with common sense. 

Dull. 

He catches her again, there really is no where to go. He’s in a time crunch and he knows how he’d rather spend his time. When he kisses her again she lets him, although as he moves his mouth along the column of her throat she manages to say. 

“I’m still pissed at you, you know, this is completely irresponsible and you know better”

It would sound a lot sterner if her body wasnt curling into his, if her skin didnt melt in his mouth as he finally reaches her collarbone and begins mouthing at her pulse point. 

“Yeah well so do you, and yet here we are,” Sherlock counters. He drags his tongue back up her thoat to just behind her earlobe. She shudders beautifully at his touch. 

He doesn’t expect Molly to grab a fistful of his hair and yank but he likes it. A lot

“Shut up!” She orders him. He rucks her blouse up to get to her breasts , revelling in the satin soft skin of her hips and stomach. 

“You first,” he retorts as he kneels in front of her mouthing one of her breasts through the fabric of her bra. He doesn’t care if Molly has to deal with a wet patch for the rest of the day. He reaches up to pinch the hardening bud of her other nipple as she  
throws her head back against the door at the sensation. God he loves how sensitive she is to touch. Maybe that’s why she wears so many layers.

He smirks up at her, smugness bleeding from every pore. 

“I can’t believe you’re willing to throw away brain cells for drugs,” Molly continues her tirade, even as he stands and begins unbuttoning her trousers. 

“I have extra,” he assures her flippantly, fingers teasing at the waistband of her ujnderwear and then slipping inside. “I could do with a few less,”

Her response however barbed it was going to be was lost in a strangled moan as his fingers settle over her clit, ghosting over the tiny bundle of nerves, a promise. 

“Note: subject has an off button,” Sherlock murmurs.

“Fuck You!”

“Working on it,” Sherlock assures her as Molly widens her stance to give him better access. Molly groans, “you’re such as ass you know that? Why do you insist on putting everyone who loves you through this shit?”

“Why do you insist on giving a damn?!” Damn it they are talking when he’d much rather be doing something else, he hadn’t started this because he wanted to talk about his feelings. “When have I ever given you reason to give a damn about me?” He helps ease her trousers and underwear all the way off throwing them carelessly behind him

Her big brown eyes flare and for a second Sherlock thinks they are going to fight instead of fuck but whatever Molly is about to say she swallows it.

“You know what? Forget it, if you insist on being here and doing this you can put your mouth to better use!” 

“Gladly,” Sherlock sneers, letting her guide him where they both want him to go. Ever since he kissed her he’s been desperate to taste her, desperate to get on his knees and drink his fill of her. Shutting her up is just an added bonus, so when he kneels and presses his tongue along the seam of her lips it feels so good. 

He wraps his hands around her arse as he slides his tongue inside of her, as deep as he can. His jaw aches and the muscles pull but it’s so worth it when he can taste her on his tongue. He licks up and down slowly turning up the pressure and speed until Molly is shaking. He carefully avoids her clit, retribution for the nagging until he can feel her shudder. She’s almost there. The devil in him wants to drag it out but they don’t have time and Sherlock’s cock is heavy in his pants. 

Without warning he wraps his lips around her clit giving it his full attention and Molly stuffs her sleeve of her blouse into her mouth as she keens with the pleasure of it. 

It makes him wonder just how loud Molly is in bed. Not that he’s ever likely to know. Anger and sexual frustration + bad decisions = angry, passionate cupboard sex was the closest Molly was ever going to let him come and so he’d take it. Molly undulates her hips against his face in time with his tongue in her cunt. She’s beautiful like this, legs splayed open and wanton and taking her pleasure from him so well.

Molly’s orgasm hits her, its not a sudden thing like The Woman whose pleasure always felt like the crack of a whip. Molly’s is slightly more gentle though no less intense he catalogues the long drawn out gasp and the following shorter gasps, her knees wobbling so he feels obliged to hold her up. The tingle of pink spreading across her chest and the way her fingers clenched in his hair, hard enough in just the right way that Sherlock had to use all his skill not to come right there and then. 

She’d gotten hers

There’s no way he’s leaving without getting his.

“My turn,” he gets to his feet and measures the difference between them and the various positions open to them. Against the wall was doable though the shelves were packed haphazardly and any movement was likely to bring the whole thing down not to mention the noise. He’s also not convinced he could keep Molly pinned in his arms long enough. A quick glance at the floor told him that was not happening, ever. The door would have to do.

“Height difference. Fixable” he says, he grabs at the footstool tucked on the bottom shelf and kicks it towards the door, Molly hops to avoid getting hit in the shin. Once it’s in place he takes her hand, helping her up onto the elevated surface. It’s not perfect he’d prefer a flat surface or at least one of the stools in the lab which were the perfect height but oh well.

“Up you go!” 

The door really was a fantastic idea, forcing Molly to curve her back slightly giving him a perfect view of her heart shaped arse, there were several red marks where his fingers had dug into her flesh when he’d been on his knees. They would last a lot longer than this brief interlude would. But Molly could use the reminder. 

He runs his hand down the curve of her spine, the blouse is crammed into her bra strap in his haste but Molly is gloriously naked from there on down. 

He wraps one hand around her waist-to keep the door from rattling and not because he needs to feel her. He frees himself from his tracksuit bottoms, his clock is heavy and aching in his hand so with little preamble he slides inside of her. 

Molly arches her throat and Sherlock happily returns to mouthing the salt slick skin. Shes going to end up with a hickey if he’s not careful. Or a handful. 

“Excellent, you’re so delicious and wet. Perfect,” 

Molly’s answer is to push against him, morning slightly as the shift eases his cock deeper inside of her. Molly lets out a moan and Sherlock shuts his eyes. He wants to savour the sensation of being inside Molly Hooper forever but he doesn’t have time and his body is impatient. 

They are silent for the most part as Sherlock fucks her into the door. The only sound is slick skin against skin and the low whine Molly lets out between clenched teeth. 

He needs to do something with his mouth lest he say something he can’t take back so he mouths at the soft underside of her ear down, down her throat until a particularly well aimed thrust makes pleasure spool through him and he nips down harder on her throat. Molly’s answer is a choked sob and a tightening of her inner muscles. 

“Liked that, did you?” Sherlock asks, “I guess you can stilll surprise me after all this time,” 

He’s close he can feel the precipice looming but he wants to take Molly with him. He slides his hand down Molly’s flat stomach, splaying his fingers so that he can feel as much of her as possible and then he slides his fingers between her legs, questing until he finds her clit. 

“I’m almost there, Molly. Come for me.”

He has to admire her pluck, “you don’t deserve it,” she says even as she clenches around his cock. 

He doesn’t deserve it, but that’s never stopped him before. 

“Oh but I always get things I don’t deserve, why should today be any different?” Sherlock snarls punctuating his words by a nip at her ear lobe and the press of his fingers against her clit circling and circling with maddening precion until Molly went rigid for a couple of delicious seconds. The wave of her pleasure triggered his and he gritted his teeth against the wall of pleasure that bombarded him. 

It’s over too quickly, and Sherlock shoves away the sentiement brewing in his chest as Molly leans boneless against the door, eyes heavy lidded as her pleasure shudders through her. 

By the time Molly turns around he’s chased that persistent, nagging feeling back down into its cold, unfeeling grave. One of the upsides of the drugs was the off switch it provided for his feelings. 

Molly’s cheeks are rosy, tendrils of her ponytail sticking to her neck and face. But she looks enviably detached. 

“Well that happened,”

He’s unaccountably annoyed, she’s already back to being Molly Hooper, pathologist and upstanding member of the community. Who would never fuck a drug addict in a cupboard. 

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it, I know you did”

It doesn’t matter that he’s going to try to bury this encounter under as much chemical castration as his body can handle. By the time he sees Molly Hooper again this whole episode will be deleted. They’ll never speak of it again, even he wouldn’t dare to bring it up high or not. 

The idea makes him sick. He probably needs another hit. Another hit and this won’t hurt so much. 

Another few seconds and Molly is dressed, tugging at her blouse. She doesn’t look like the woman he fucked against a door. Maybe that woman never exsisted. Maybe this is just another hallucination and he’ll wake up in his bed, hand on his weeping cock with sticky bedsheets. 

“I’m still fucking pissed at you. So get the fuck out of my hospital. Go home. Sober up. Try to put your life back together. I don’t need this.” Molly’s voice is hard. He tries to remember how she sounded when she came but it’s hazy. “Get out.”

“Certainly,” Sherlock lets all of the spite he’s held back since they entered this room pour out of him, “Can’t have anyone knowing you just had cupboard sex with a drug addict. What would people think?” He puts a hand to his chest and makes a mock horrified expression. But his eyes are cold. And burning. 

Molly’s jaw is tight, she motions to the door.’ Half an hour ago she wore his mark, the signs of his kiss. Now her skin is white and unblemished. He bets even his finger marks have started to fade. 

Fuck it 

And fuck her. He doesn’t need this shit. He pulls the door extravagantly wide, uncaring if it causes a scene. Let Molly explain what happened in that closet. Because he sure a hell doesn’t have the first clue. 

 

John!” he calls ,”Where are you? I need to go home.” He slips out of the cupboard, pulling the door shut behind him.


End file.
